The Mischief of the Gods
by JPAnderson
Summary: A one shot prequel. I don't currently intend to ever add to it. Aphrodite and Hermes have a bet as to whether Aphrodite can cause love to flourish between a daughter of Athena and a son of Posiedon. Should take about 15 minutes to read. Hope you enjoy, please leave comments!


**Okay this is a one shot, I don't think I will ever add to it, although you are welcome to yourself or to make suggestions. First, this is Riordan's universe, I'm just in the corner making mud pies. Not for profit, all characters the property of, blah blah blah. A warning: In the second section word are used that are considered racist these days, but not in 1865. It was necessary for the story. Yes the Fort Pillow massacre occurred, you can look that up. As did the Battle of the Bulge. I have tried to be reasonably accurate in my descriptions of both. Finally, I hope you enjoy and leave a comment or two. Seriously, I live for comments. I'm lonely and pathetic that way.**

 **The Mischief of the Gods**

 **Part I.**

 **Olympus April, 1864**

"It won't work. You have seen their fates, there isn't enough time." Hestia said.

"Not in this lifetime, but if they both try for rebirth, perhaps enough memory will remain to spark the fire in the next life." Aphrodite replied.

"Honestly, your bet with Hermes was foolish. You know that a child of Lord Poseidon and a child of Lady Athena are never going to unite. We debated proper pairings of heros for eons, you know this is folly."

"Perhaps, but as home and hearth are your areas of concern you should be pulling for me."

"I am favoring you Aphrodite, but this is folly. Still, if it works, you will wipe the smug off Hermes' face, and no one would appreciate that more than I. You only have a century and a half left."

"Yes, but keep a secret for me. I discussed these two with the fates. Both will try for the Isle of the Blessed. That will give me three attempts to unite them."

"I will keep your secret, honestly those three creep me out. How can you stand to..."

"As Athena would say, knowledge is power. Yes, they will die this time apart, but if they are both born again with the slightest fragrance of each other's memory, there is a chance."

"Have you considered enlisting Chiron's aid at bringing them together while at camp next life?"

"He bet heavily with Hermes. He refused to help me and said it was impossible."

"It is impossible. Or very nearly so. Still, if you succeed..."

 **Part II.**

 **Henning, Tennessee, Redoubt Number 7, Fort Pillow. April 12, 1863**

If you are reading this, you may be thinking you want to be a hero, a demigod. Don't. Don't wish it and fear it doesn't come to pass. In addition to fighting the damned Confederate Army, I'm having to fight earthborn that have been creeping in since I got here last week. Only myself and Clarabeth with the camp staff can see them, and I'm not sure why she can. She recognized me as a half blood as soon as I got here though, and it was nice not being alone even if we haven't spoken.

Fort Pillow was named for the confederate general that built it. It overlooked the Mississippi and could hit anywhere on the river in front of it with canon and mortar shot. Thing is, while it controlled passage on the river in front of it, it wasn't really defensible to the rear. It was built by an army that controlled the rear so it didn't worry about attacks coming that way. We had set up a picket line of redoubts east of the river and fort to give advance warning of any rebel attacks, and I had spent the night posted to one with a bugle, rifle, and my swords. Since the fall of Vicksburg last year we controlled all the Mississippi, and everyone felt the war was almost over. It was believed that the rebs wouldn't risk a major attack on us with so little to gain. If successful they still would not be able to travel the Mississippi, so it was believed that a line of pickets would be enough to warn the fort and defeat the attack. It wasn't though.

Nathan Bedford Forrest, a slave trader before the war who raised a cavalry unit and quickly became a general for the rebs was on the prowl in north west Tennessee. He had attacked a garrison to our north only days before and we soldiers knew he was coming our way despite what the officers believed. A former reb fort filled with what Mr Lincoln called his grand experiment of "colored" soldiers was too tempting of a target for a racist bastard.

I was black, but fortunate. My mother raised me in New York and was a free woman. She worked as a paid servant for one of the rich families in town and I had it pretty good for a colored child. I didn't go to school with the white kids of course, but maw taught me at home in the evenings. Even before the war I knew I was different. I had trouble focusing and with reading and writing. Maw worked with me hard though and I learned enough to get by.

When Mr Lincoln called out for a draft there were riots in the town and that is when maw told me everything.

"Percival, your father is Poseidon, and you need to get out of town and go to a place that trains his children." That was the short version.

"What?" I asked.

"Those monsters you see in the crowds, they are real, and if you don't get somewhere safe they are gonna kill you. Now tomorrow I am taking Mr Simmon's buckboard and we are going there, its just a few miles away, you'll be there and be safe by mid afternoon. Oh, and your father wanted you to have this" she said as he handed me a short quill.

"What?" I asked again, thinking she had done gone blinky.

"Run your fingers through the vane. Do it son." She commanded.

When I did the quill turned into a sword. Then I thought I was going blinky. Maw explained it several times, and told me that after everything had settled down I would return to New York to live with her. It was a confusing and scary time for me.

The next day we got to Camp Half Blood, where I would spend most of the next two years. I trained with Chiron, the elder centaur that had trained the god's children for thousands of years. Many had left the camp to join up with the armies, but I was considered too young. I would later learn that as a child of one of the big three, Chiron was vested with the duty of keeping me alive until I was truly ready to fight.

Still as the war raged on I knew I should sign up. When I turned sixteen, Vicksburg fell and Gettysburg was defended. I knew if I didn't join up the war would pass me by and that as one of, if not the, best fighter in camp I owned it to my country and myself to get into the war. I enlisted and was given basic training, which was quite rudimentary. I excelled at it though and was named a Sergeant. Blacks were not allowed to be officers in Mr Lincoln's army, or any other army it seemed.

Chiron wrote a letter of introduction for me to General Sherman, a child of Ares, but on reporting to his station in Nashville he took one look at me and sent me to Fort Pillow, to join the rest of the "coloreds" in the "colored regiment." That was about the time he set off for Chattanooga, Atlanta and the sea. I would have loved to be there with him and felt I could have really contributed to the fighting in Savannah and up the coast, but Sherman said "no." He did confide that he wished he could keep me on with his troops from what Chiron said about me, but that his white soldiers would not tolerate it. Race riots were still happening in the north, though not as many as there had been when the war was going poorly.

So there I was, stuck in the redoubt, a few hundred yards from the main fort, the morning of the twelfth. No monsters had attacked in the night, which was nice as, like I said before, Forrest's cavalry was near. I tried to stay alert of course. I had a bugle to signal an alarm, a musket that like most issued to our regiment was well worn and not particularly accurate, and of course my quill, which I had learned from Chiron was named "Riptide." It was useless against mortals though so I also carried a saber I had retrieved from a fallen confederate I killed on the way to Henning at New Johnsonville. It was a bit of let down from Riptide balance and heft wise, but I improved it by sharpening it to a razor edge from the normal dull, blunt, edge it carried. Riptide, in quill form, was literally a feather in my cap.

I was awaiting relief so I could march back to the fort and had nearly nodded off. Clarabeth came walking up the path with a basket in her hands.

"You shouldn't sleep on post."

"I wasn't asleep."

"Yes you were, and you drool in your sleep boy."

I stood to greet her, we had never actually met. Two nights before while on watch at the camp I killed an earthborn that had attacked me, and when I turned to make sure no one had seen it, she was staring right at me. She left me without saying a word.

As I stood she asked "Where did you get that sword?"

"Oh. New Johnsonville. A rebel cav officer had it. Since he had one and I didn't have any after I shot him I took his."

"No, the one in your hat. The one you fought the earthborn with." She said as she sat, opened the basket and passed me both hard tack and a canteen.

"Oh. A gift from my father. So, you have true sight. May I ask how?"

"Clarabeth Race. Daughter of Athena."

"Percival Johnson. Son of Poseidon."

"You fight well Percival. Where did you"

"Please, call me 'Percy'."

"Where did you learn the sword Percy?"

"A place called Camp..."

"Halfblood. So Chiron trained you?"

"Yes, you know him?"

"I left there in the winter of 61, I wanted to fight. So far they have let me cut bandages and watch doctors kill people. There isn't a child of Apollo among them. You have nectar?"

"Some. Are you hurt?"

"No, but out here by yourself, well, you might need... hold..." She said, holding up her hand for silence.

I confess to you Clarabeth was quite pretty. She had soft mocha skin, full lips, and her lusterous black curls hung from her kerchif down to the middle of her back. She was slight of frame and just about the prettiest girl I had ever seen. But she was too distracting as I heard the shot and the mini ball whistling through the air beside me.

We both got down and search for the shooter. We could now hear the horses in the wood ahead of us, but couldn't see them yet.

"You should get back to the fort, take the boat out to the New Era, things are about to get risky here." I told her.

"Can't" she replied. "I stole the captain's pistols a couple days ago. Seems he had two and I did not have any" she grinned. Sure enough she pulled two Colt naval revolvers from the basket. We scanned the trees and in a moment a reb officer rode out. When he saw us he stopped his horse and raised his hands.

"Take this message to the commander of the fort. We outnumber you and by the time you get this you will be surrounded on land. Your ship on the river cannot save you all. Give us your surrender and you will be treated honorably."

"What about our colored soldiers?" Clarabeth shouted.

"They will be treated in accordance with our law."

That meant we would be shot or hung. Clarabeth and I looked at each other and knew we were dead either way. We nodded a silent agreement that we would rather die on our feet than on our knees.

Then we charged.

Clarabeth shot the officer in the forehead before he had a chance to react. We raced to the tree line, using what little cover was available to shield ourselves from the rain of mini balls that poured forth from the rebs. Once we got to where we could see them, I fired my rifle at a sergeant and blew his brains out, while Clarabeth emptied her pistols into the rebs still aiming at us.

I charged in and with my saber began killing those that had previously missed and were reloading. Bugles rang out from all along the picket and the rebel line and they charged out of the wood and began fighting their way to the fort.

"Die you nigress wench!" I heard a guy on horseback say and turned as he raised a saber to kill Clarabeth. She was faster though and dove under his horse, then stabbed upward with a dagger as she had emptied the Colts. The horse reared up, probably doomed from the wound she inflicted and its rider sought to hang on.

I stabbed him in the side with my bayonet and left the rifle hanging from his rib cage. Clarabeth hopped up and took a pistol from his holster and emptied it into the confederate ranks as they fired on us in mass.

I ran forward to the nearest one and sliced his head cleanly off, but another just behind him fired his gun at point blank range into my chest. I fell, and would not get up.

Clarabeth ran to assist me.

"The nectar, where is it?" She asked as the foot soldiers began to rise and surround us.

"Back at the picket, with my canteen. Too far, too late. Run Clarabeth, get out of here, save yourself!"

"This bitch ain't going no where!" I heard a reb shout as he stabbed her in the back with his saber.

She looked down to see the blade protruding between her breasts and whispered with a gasp "It was an honor fighting at your side Percy."

"The same" I grunted, and that was the last thing I said before I fell over and died along with her.

 **Part III**

 **Olympus.**

"Oh! You were so close Aphrodite! So close! Yet, still so very far! Why don't you admit I was right and give up this little experiment of yours? Surely you see there are limits to your powers by now?" Hermes said with a laugh, mocking the Goddess of Love.

"He isn't wrong Lady Aphrodite," Chiron added. "the closest they got to talking loving kindness to each other was when Athena's daughter told him that he drooled in his sleep! Your efforts are noble, but folly."

"Perhaps you should concentrate more on training the children and leave affairs of the heart to me. As for you messenger boy, perhaps you are not aware that both have requested rebirth. So I will begin to work on them again."

"Oh, I was aware of that. Perhaps you have not heard that they will be born a decade apart, and won't possibly meet at camp. In fact for them to meet at all would be a miracle, considering what is to come. By the time they are old enough they will be an ocean apart."

"Love is a miracle." Aphrodite concluded.

 **Part IV**

 **101st Airborne, Bastogne, December 1944.**

If you are reading this, you may be thinking you want to be a hero, a demigod. Don't. Don't wish it and fear it doesn't come to pass. I am not supposed to be the company medic, but the guy who was got shot in the face our first day here. Since then I have been distributing what morphine we have, arranging transport to town to the infirmary the resistance had set up there, and applying bandages to wounds that really needed surgery.

It's worse than that really though. I wasn't supposed to be in the Army, much less the airborne. When I went to the draft board to sign up I figured my older brother, Chester Nimitz, would grab me for the Navy, or even the Marines. Given my water skills, as well as hand to hand combat, that made sense. Even Chiron admitted as much when I departed Camp Half Blood, and had sent Nimitz the usual notification that a half blood was joining up and should be grabbed, but for whatever reason Demeter's son, Gen McAuliffe, did whatever Generals do to grab half bloods they want. I guess I had a good reputation as a fighter and leader at camp and on Olympus, but I hated flying, and especially parachuting.

And once I got to Toccoa no effort was made to do anything with my water skills. I rose to corporal, but no further. It was as though Olympia decided to ignore me. I committed to working even harder, even though my skills were better than any of my true mortal comrades yet time and again I was passed over. After the river crossing during Market Garden I figured I was due promotion, but while most of my fellow troopers made Sergeant that survived, I remained a corporal, albeit one with a Silver Star.

I wasn't even supposed to be in Bastogne. I had two weeks R and R in Paris that was canceled on day three. We were packed up on trucks and driven to Belgium without winter gear or even sufficient ammunition. Oh, and did I mention this all happened as Belgium was getting snowed in during one of the worst winter storms in decades? All I had was my Gerand, one web belt of clips, a light over coat, three days rats, Riptide (which was useless against mortal enemies but as it turned out quite useful in a wood filled with immortal terrors of the past) and my dog tags that read Perry Johnson and my serial number. I didn't even have a helmet or liner, but I would get those, three grenades and for some reason a case of mortar shells to carry to the field. My team had a few other things, a couple of entrenching tools so we could dig in and plenty of rough lumber from the 88's shelling the hell our of area a day or so before.

Once we had a hole dug we laid logs over it, leaving a few murder holes to shoot through, and laid a couple of wool blankets over it to hold some heat in, and three old rain ponchos to keep the snow out. Larry, one of my two hole mates, was a genius at both finding the best way to engineer a fox hole that met the standards of the unit, and Mark was a genius at stealing anything that wasn't nailed down. After a few trips on foot to the town we have coffee, a pot to make it in, and a makeshift stove we could only use briefly for fear of smoke giving away our position.

We dug in and faced no real combat for a day. On the 18th of December we picked up some support from a tank destroyer unit which was nice as we had nothing but mortar rounds to attack tanks with. The good news is that they brought a few extra wool socks with them. I managed to trade some hot coffee for a pair, which I cut holes in to make fingerless gloves. Don't laugh, it was better than the nothing we had before, and I could pull them down over my fingers when I wasn't shooting at something. We were on either side of a highway to Margare, and while still freezing our asses off, on December 19 the entire 2d Panzer Division came down on our heads.

The tank destroyers slowed them down while we focused on their infantry. Under the Nazi's attack doctrine infantry was more expendable and existed in the field to protect its armor. It made sense in a way, without the infantry between us and them, we could rush a tank and drop a grenade down it's hatch and destroy the crew. That I and most of my buddies were out of grenades after the first engagement was apparently not common knowledge among our enemy.

For the next week they probed and shelled us, but we didn't break. I would be sent to scrounge ammunition which was low throughout the division, as well as tend to the injured in addition to my combat role. I slept an hour or two when I could and like most of my company was soon exhausted. But there was no relief. The town was surrounded. Oh, and these big ass wolves kept coming in at night and I had the only sword that could kill them. Of course they only attacked me anyway and in all the chaos no one noticed.

The men became even closer and a spirit of camaraderie grew to extraordinary heights. This was elevated even higher when, while the Waffen SS was pounding us, the German commander demanded our surrender and McAuliffe answered "Nuts."

I still have no idea what he mean, but it felt good.

Of course then they pounded us even more.

We were never rescued. Patton's Third Army finally came and relieved us, but we didn't need rescuing. To this day not a survivor of Bastogne will say they were rescued. Rescue is beneath us. We were relieved. Well my unit was anyway. I wasn't a survivor.

It was a couple days before Patton's arrival that I saw her, a nurse with the resistance I had not noticed before.

I had been up all night fighting a ventus, a wind demon, and was finally able to defeat him. After that the weather started to break. Oh it was still freezing but the sky cleared at least and the air support began. Mustangs, B-25s and P-47s began hitting the Germans back and they had to button down and stop shooting at us just to save their own asses. Say what you want about the Army Air Corp, but the Germans were terrified of them and we never stopped hearing the planes or the explosions from their ordinance. And we never tired of it.

I was sent back to town for a supply run, although there weren't any, and a Major, seeing I was exhausted, ordered me to grab some coffee and sleep. I couldn't resist, but asked that he have someone wake me in an hour or so that I might get back to my unit. I grabbed a church pew inside a relief station, laid my rifle down, and grasped Riptide in my hand. Everyone saw it as a pen anyway. I fell right off, the music of the Air Corp putting me to sleep.

"You drool in your sleep" She said.

"Whu... who?"

"Wake up hero, there's a war on."

"Oh. Uh, thanks. Where is everyone? Who are you? I haven't seen you before."

She was blond and had stormy grey eyes, and was dressed more or less as a nurse.

"Elizabeth Venery. Captain Elizabeth Venery." The way she said "Captain" let me know that her next words were not suggestions.

"Now get up hero and get back to your unit. We have a few vials of morphine and some bandages for you. They are just sheets we were able to bleach, slice and roll but its all we have. The aid station has been moved to the south of town to try to stay out of range of the German artillery that is massing north of here. You... is that Anaklusmos?"

"Uh." Hmmm, she could see through the mist, at least enough to see my weapon.

"It is isn't it? Chiron showed it to me, it was in the big house armory."

"Uh, yeah. My father gave it to me. You're a..."

"Daughter of Athena. I left camp in 35 and went to nursing school. I wanted to be an architect but they wouldn't let a girl study it at my college. I was supposed to be posted to the Pacific with the Marines, gods only knows how I ended up here. How... you're one of Poseidon's? You're the last heir to the oceans?"

"Uh, what do you mean, yes as to Poseidon though. Perry Johnson at your service. It's short for Percival."

"Oh, Zeus just issued an edict. None of the big three are going to have kids with mortals any longer because of the war. You haven't heard? Chiron didn't mist you?"

"Uh, no. I've been in the war. Don't get a lot of news what with the 88's and panzers hitting us all the time."

"Yeah. Apparently Hades' last mortal kids were blown up in Italy, and Zeus claims he has no children that aren't already grown. So... uh everyone has been wondering where you were. You are the only child of the brothers that is younger than forty."

"Uh, but there are Nimitz, and Ike, and Hap and..."

"All grown. You're 17, 18?"

"18. Just turned."

"Still a child by their standards. Well, not their standards I guess but at least you are Poseidon's youngest. Either way, youngest of the brother's children and last they will have. How did you get here?" She smiled.

"Is that good? How I got here is a long story."

"I don't think so. I understand Hades is pretty angry about his kids and blames his brothers. You should lay low, or at least as low as you can."

Okay, so she was an officer and a child of Athena, but she was very beautiful and although I was never afraid of water I knew I could just drown in her eyes. Yeah, she was at least ten years older than I, but it was war time and that just didn't seem to matter.

I started to tell her my story, then the Waffen SS started shelling again and blew the aid station, myself and Captain Veney included, all to hell.

 **Part V**

 **Olympus**

"You had your son pull him to Europe! You interfered."Aphrodite shouted.

"Yes, but you had your son place her there as well. If you seek equity you must come with clean hands Lady Aphrodite. Now pay up, you have lost the wager." Hermes said with a grin as they stood around the mist watching the rubble fall in Bastogne.

"I still have time."

"Yes, but you are out of children. Lord Zeus has ruled. No more half bloods of he and his brothers. That was the last child of Lord Poseidon. Even though he seeks rebirth the boy will not be a child of Poseidon."

Aphrodite looked at Hestia, Chiron and Demeter. All nodded sadly.

"He does not lie I fear. You have lost this wager." Hestia said.

Aphrodite opened a small purse and produced a single gold drachma. Tossing it to Hermes she said "I hope you choke on it!"

"I might, but at least I have shown that love isn't the most powerful force!" He cackled with glee as he and Chiron walked away.

"You smile betrays you Aphrodite. You have plans." Demeter said.

"Hermes forgets that all the affections the gods feel are because I will it."

"Hermes has resisted your machinations before. Breaking his heart will not make your loss any less humiliating."

"Breaking his heart? What a delightful idea! I shall set about that at once. No Demeter, that would only be a fringe benefit, and while Hermes has resisted my efforts before, Poseidon hasn't. I play a long game. Wait. Watch." Aphrodite smiled.

"So you are not finished yet?"

"Of course not! I will unite a child of Athena and Poseidon. When it comes to love and romance I cannot be denied. Hermes should have guessed this, but at least now he will not attempt to openly effect the outcome as he believes our wager is over."

 **Part VI**

 **Camp Half Blood Infirmary, May 2005.**

If you are reading this, you may be thinking you want to be a hero, a demigod. Don't. Don't wish it and fear it doesn't come to pass. Not only did I learn I was apparently a child of a Greek god yesterday, I had to kill the Minotaur which damn near killed me, watched while my mother was destroyed into fire, and now I wake up in this infirmary to find out that my Mythology instructor at Yancey, Mr Brunner, is actually Chiron, trainer of the god's children and himself a centaur. Oh, and my best friend Grover? Yeah, he is apparently a goat. Or half goat, I don't know, whatever.

I say this happened yesterday, but I don't know how long I out for. All I know is when I woke up on the cot there was a blond girl in armor standing over me. Candidly the armor made her seem over dressed for late spring but I'm not a fashion expert. She was quite pretty, about my age I guess, and had stormy grey eyes. Anyway, for some reason she seemed familiar, like I had seen her before somewhere, but it wasn't school. I couldn't place her at all but knew we had met.

"You drool in your sleep." She said before she turned and walked away.

"Oh dear." Chiron gasped. 


End file.
